“On what score?” inquired Nicodemus.
“On divers scores,” quoth the Abbot; “thy misdeeds have grown rank: we must even root them out of thee, or root thee out of our fraternity, on which thou art bringing contumely. I tell thee, Brother Nicodemus, thy offences are numberless as the weeds which grow by the way-side. Here be many who have much to say of thee:—speak, Brother Ulick!”
“Brother Nicodemus,” said Father Ulick, “hath, truly, ever been a gross feeder.”
“And a lover of deep and most frequent potations,” quoth Father Edmund.
“And a roamer beyond due bounds,” added Father Hugo.
“Yea, and given to the utterance of many fictions,” muttered his brother.
“Very voluble also, and not altogether of so staid aspect, as becometh one of his order and mellow years,” drawled Father James.
“To speak plainly—a glutton,” said the first speaker.
“Ay, and a drunkard,” said the second.
“Moreover, a night-walker,” said the third.